Dono roared in pain, summoning every ounce of his will, senses, and focus to sustain the vortex.
He could no longer hear his own voice, nor could he smell anything. Everything was consumed by the colossal effort he was exerting. Yet, despite these obstacles, a guttural laugh erupted from his throat, filled with savage satisfaction. The spectacle unfolding before him brought him fierce joy. A single thought echoed in his mind: This beast must die.
The vortex, descending straight from the heavens, pressed down on the creature like a vengeful lover, spinning faster and faster, relentless.
On the ground, the lion had fallen silent, its roars extinguished, but it was not yet defeated. It knew that this vortex, in its fury, would soon sever its head. It was only a matter of time. The lion had played all its cards, and its enemies knew that only its aura remained. What else could it do?
Suddenly, an idea surged from the depths of its being. It wasn't an animal instinct but something strangely human. Without hesitation, the lion enveloped its paws in its aura and projected it skyward—not directly at its enemies, but above them.
Rieze, watching the scene with unease, shouted at Dono:
"Finish it quickly!"
The lion, manipulating its aura with mental precision, attempted to shape a block of water encased in its energy. It resembled shards of water, wrapped in shimmering aura. Sensing that its plan was working, the lion intensified its effort, pouring every bit of its remaining aura into the vortex.
But the hope it glimpsed was swiftly extinguished. Before it, Ulturion emerged, his arm clad in layers of iron, his face cold and devoid of pity. He raised his fist, ready to end it all. If a thought could have flashed through the lion's mind at that moment, it would have been: I've won.
From the vortex, blocks of aura erupted, fragmenting into a rain of blades. At a glance, one could estimate their number at over three hundred. Simultaneously, other blocks of aura rose into the sky, splitting into a multitude of razor-sharp blades as well.
Rieze, caught off guard, wondered how such a creature could achieve such a feat. Unbeknownst to all, the lion had unknowingly strengthened its aura by siphoning ether from Dono's vortex.
Dono, swaying on his feet, fought to remain standing. He could feel the lion stealing part of his attack. Keeping one arm extended toward the tornado, he placed his other hand over his mouth, inhaling and exhaling deeply, again and again.
The blades, mere inches from Ulturion, did not stop him. Placing his left hand on the ground, he triggered a phenomenon that stunned the lion. Countless metal shields tore through the earth, rising as if guided by telepathy, positioning themselves between Ulturion and the blades.
"I told you," Ulturion roared. "Nothing… absolutely nothing will stop me from smashing your head!"
His fist crashed into the lion's face, seizing it by the jaw. The impact didn't send the lion flying. Its face, distorted by pain, still burned with hatred and murderous intent. Ulturion raised his right arm and unleashed a barrage of punches, each one heavier than the last. The lion's face began to twist under the relentless blows.
In the sky, the blocks of aura fragmented further, giving rise to nearly a thousand blades. Ulturion, glancing upward, muttered:
"So, you're going all in… Fine. It's already a miracle you're still alive."
He hurled the lion to the ground and enveloped himself in a dome of metal shields. Just before vanishing inside, he shouted:
"Dono, it's time!"
The lion, focused on its blades, sent them raining down as the vortex's pressure on its head dissipated. Blood poured from its skull in torrents. Had the vortex lingered one minute longer, it would have been torn apart. But its animal instinct, that sixth sense for danger, screamed at it to destroy this city as quickly as possible. Yet, like a foolish human, it turned its head toward the only enemy still visible.
What it saw filled it with terror. Dono, absorbing the vortex through his mouth as if it were nothing, seemed possessed. Their eyes met, and Dono's gaze was pure darkness.
From his mouth shot two enormous lances, white as snow. In the blink of an eye, they pierced the lion's body. The beast, which moments ago had believed victory was assured, felt unknown objects tear through its flesh. Consumed by rage at being defeated by such adversaries, it redirected all its blades toward Dono.
Dono, removing the hand covering his mouth, let out a visible breath. With each exhale, the air seemed to freeze around him. Staring at the lion, whose face blazed with intense fury, he spoke in a calm, almost detached tone, despite the rage that had consumed him moments before:
"I hope you like the cold. And I hope you can endure it, because what's coming will be far worse than anything you've ever known."
The blades, inches from Dono, didn't reach him. With a glacial breath, Dono froze the very air. It wasn't mere vapor escaping his mouth but a destructive force that instantly solidified the aura blades. Without giving the lion a chance to react, Dono froze all its organs—except its heart.
The breath, devastating in its power, consumed everything in its path: corpses, living humans, cultivators, buildings—even the ground itself was not spared. All fell under Dono's wrat